Sins of Youth
by MidnightEmber
Summary: Sam and Dean let more out of hell than they thought when they opened the gate. As they are finding, the deadliest of foes strike with little warning and always with unsuspecting force. Slash
1. Chapter 1

**~ Sins of Youth ~**

**Summary:** Sam and Dean let more out of hell than they thought when they opened the gate. As they are finding, the deadliest of foes strike with little warning and always with unsuspecting force.

**Warning:** violence, slash, overall demonic bitchiness.

**Pairings:** Castiel/Harry

**Disclaimer:** Supernatural and Harry Potter are not my own otherwise I'd be making millions.

**Legend:**

_~ Parseltongue ~_

**Author's Note: This story takes place after Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (excluding prologue) and during Supernatural Season Three. Also since Castiel is the pairing with Harry you can assume this will be lengthy.**

* * *

><p><strong>~ Chapter One ~<strong>

Dean was highly sceptical about this hunt. Normally he didn't care much about whether or not something was real. It didn't really matter in his line of work. Everyone believed that what he fought on a daily basis wasn't real. Many merely thought that they were fantasy creatures that belonged in books or on a screen. How wrong those people were…

This however, was nothing like they'd ever seen before. But it was the only hunt they'd managed to find since they'd opened the gates of hell and released at least a hundred demons so they'd eagerly taken it.

Sam was resting beside him in the Impala. It was only now hitting home that he had a year to live. Yet it had all been worth it. He'd do it again in a heartbeat. As long as Sam lived everything that happened to him no longer mattered. His brother would live whether that was hunting or college life didn't matter in the scheme of things. Sam would have a chance at life.

His grip on the wheel tightened. Dead was determined not to let Hell dwell on his thoughts. He didn't want Sam thinking anything was wrong and moving into a chick flick moment. Besides, they had a job and they were going to do it no matter how ridiculous it sounded. After all they had a hundred or so demons to kick back downstairs so if they could start somewhere at least it would be something to be thankful for.

"Hey Sammy, we're almost there."

"Sam not Sammy…" his brother muttered as he woke.

Dean didn't comment as he pulled into the only motel in the small town. As far as they were aware the town hadn't been on the map until five years ago. It had been a time for celebration after that success for the small population of two thousand. However nothing demonic or supernatural had occurred during that time. Then about a month ago, the same time they had opened the gate, a Manor appeared overnight on the hill a minute or so out of town.

That was the first thing that set up alarm bells in the mind of Sam Winchester. The newspaper article he had discovered had been small. But it was enough for them especially when it mentioned that the manor, Peverell Manor, had been destroyed by fire in the early 17th century along with the town below it. Something was suspicious about that and as Sam said,

"We've looked into things for a lot less."

From the Motel they could see Peverell Manor. It looked amazing. Anyone would want to live in a Manor that sparkled in the sunlight. Everything from the windows to the walls was pristine and compared to the town it looked even grander. The appearance screamed wealthy royalty. Why did something like that have to be cursed?

"Dean, you ready?"

He nodded. They'd already decided that walking in to something like this as FBI agents wasn't going to cut it. Supernatural Investigators however would fit in with this perfectly especially since there hadn't been any disappearances or murders in the area. For once they didn't have to pretend to be something they weren't and for Dean it was kind of a relief. You could only play an FBI agent so many times before it lost its thrill.

Upon entering the motel lobby the first thing they did was rent a room for a week. They highly doubted they would be there for that length of time but one never knew. Anything could be happening up there so they were preparing for every situation they could possibly think of. Then Dean nodded at Sam to begin the questioning. With their skill level at deceiving people, it shouldn't take long before they gathered the necessary information.

"So, what is with the manor on the hill?" Sam broached.

The manager of the Motel, a stocky man with a lengthy beard, raised a brow at his brother. He didn't look impressed at all with that sentence. In fact, he looked like he wanted to snap Sam in half.

"'Scuse me?"

Knowing, he had to step in quickly, Dean moved forward.

"Forgive him, he's just a little eager to get started." Dean laughed. "We're supernatural fanatics and heard about the Manor in the paper. We just want to snoop around a bit. See if we can find anything of interest."

The manager relaxed and nodded.

"By my guest. You ain't the first people been here for that reason though. Many o' them come back not knowin' why they went up there in the first place."

"You don't say…" Sam murmured diligently writing on a sheet of paper.

Nothing passed by Sam and the fact that there was something up there erasing people's memories was a huge hit on his supernatural meter. Yet it didn't help connect his memory to any creature. After all what creature erased the memory of a victim and allowed it to walk away? For that reason alone he was rather interested already.

"Yeah, they all come back, always with the same memory loss. Nothing more I can really tell y'all. It ain't really anything to worry over. No one's been hurt." The manager explained.

"No one from town's been up there to see what's doing it?" Dean asked.

The manager shook his head explaining that they figured they'd just leave it be and use it as a tourist destination and rake in the dough. Seeing as how many people had passed through their town, Dean would say it was definitely working.

"Thanks for your help." Sam smiled.

Once outside both brothers cast a look up at the now imposing image of the Manor. It looked as magnificent as ever and they both believed that was one of the first appeals. No one would turn down the chance to scope out a place like that. Any finery was likely to be stolen during that time as well without the owner's notice. That was if there was even an owner to post a complaint.

Together, they gathered their belongings and moved towards their room. It had a rusted label seven on it and paint peeling away from the door frame. All in all the place wasn't the best kept they'd ever been to but it was something which meant they didn't have to sleep in the car… again.

"Well that was interesting." Dean commented as the entered the room.

It had to queen sized beds with pretty boring brown covers. A bathroom was off to the side and once again no kitchenette so they would be eating take-out for a while to come. Was it so much to ask for a home cooked meal even if that was merely a sandwich from Bobby?

"Do you think that only people who know about the supernatural and I mean have encountered the real deal can return with their memory?" Sam asked.

They were attempting to make sense of all this but it continued to become stranger and stranger. What sort of demon or creature erased someone's memories without even laying a hand on them? It was quite a dilemma but not one of any desperation. They had time to think this one though before attacking whatever it was head on.

"I don't know Sammy. Is it something we really want to mess with?"

Dean was all for hunting but with the threat of erasing his memories; he wasn't sure about this anymore. Though it did sound like it had some upsides. If he couldn't remember hunting then he wouldn't remember making the deal and his approaching stint in Hell. He could lead a normal life until then… but he didn't really have anyone to spend it with that wasn't a part of this life…

Sam frowned. "Dean, we've got nothing else to go on. We don't even have any idea where Lilith is and all other supernatural seem to have gone into hibernation. No omens, no demons, not even a measly poltergeist!"

Deep down, Dean knew this. He knew that this was the first break they'd received in a while. With everything supernatural seeming to take a back seat, their jobs were pretty much forfeit for the time being. Without anything to hunt, they were just ordinary people once again. This however was what they were trained to do and they did a damn good job at it to.

"Alright, Sammy, we'll continue to look into it. We'll start gathering more information in the morning."

It had after all been a long drive there. So with that reassurance they unpacked their belongings and crawled into bed, ready to tackle the job head on tomorrow. Little did they know what they would find the following day.

x-x-x-x-x

Upon rising, they both decided what would be done. Dean was going to go round town and question anyone that he could possibly speak with while Sam was going to do what he did best and research. Splitting up for a time wasn't difficult though it did make them rather nervous. Being apart left them vulnerable to anything that was around and knew they were present. However the sooner they figured this out the sooner they could move on and search for something new.

Dean had to admit though the town was doing ridiculously well. For a small town that wasn't well known, it had quite a few attractions that would garner attention easily. Of course it helped the girls here were rather attractive as well.

Flirting and finding a girl to sleep with however was at the back of his mind. There was a hunt here and quite honestly with something unknown so close he wanted to keep a low profile. That meant no bar fights to attract anyone that might be interested in a one night stand. Nope the only thing he was hoping to find in the bar was more information.

"Hey, do you know anything about Peverell Manor?" Dean asked directly.

The bar tender snorted knowing immediately that this was another one of those hocus pocus investigators that wanted in on their little mystery. He'd seen so many that he already knew what information to give him. If that meant they bought something from his bar as well while they were here it was only a bonus.

"All I know, boy, is that Peverell Manor isn't a place you'll be wanting to be near."

Dean merely shot him a questioning look. He wasn't backing down that quickly.

"At night, there be some awful screams coming from the Manor. If I didn't know any better I'd say they be using the Manor as a location for a horror movie."

"You've never been up there to have a look?"

Of course, it was well known that anyone who went up there didn't return with their memories. The fact that this man knew of the sounds was intriguing and mighty curious.

"Don't have to go up there. I live in a small house nearby. Can hear everything from there."

It was said in an ominous tone and Dean couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was speaking about. What noises from a horror story was he speaking specifically about? There were so many and could lead down numerous paths for his search. He posed the question to the bar tender.

"Torture," was his only reply.

Frowning, Dean thanked the man before moving on to the others inside. They spoke with him, many giving him more information than he bargained for but they all had the same back story. Peverell Manor had appeared suddenly and all they had heard since then was the sound of torture victims screaming. The sounds would start at ten o'clock at night and continue to two o'clock in the morning before everything went silent.

It was strange and certainly wasn't something Dean had even heard before. But whatever was happening in Peverell Manor, they needed to find out swiftly and stop it before it continued or worsened.

Returning to the motel, Dean immediately told Sam what he'd heard. The entire time, Sam sat and listened trying to piece everything he had gathered to this as well. If they couldn't figure out what was happening soon people would start to question why they weren't heading up closer for a better look.

"That's disturbing. However it definitely doesn't lead us to a creature. I found this information on a historical website." Sam said. "Peverell Manor and the town of Abbott below was once a large, wealthy and well known region. Known mostly for the excellent yearly harvests, they were also awarded numerous titles for their contribution to science and religion. However Peverell Manor and the town were burnt by a neighbouring village during the 17th century in the belief the citizens of Abbot were resulting to witchcraft to achieve their miraculous harvests."

That caught his attention immediately.

"Did anyone survive?"

Sam nodded. "Yes, the Peverell Family survived the ordeal but they moved to England after that, abandoning the Manor."

Usually books on witchcraft and their lore were kept in the family. Demon deals would only allow a witch to live for ten years after the deal but the books were still kept within the family. If anyone knew how to torture souls and were connected to Peverell Manor it would be those that held the books.

"Did you trace the line down to see who the descendants are?"

Sam simply handed a stack of papers to his brother. They listed everyone who had ever been born into the family and ended…

"Sam, this ends with three brothers who have been dead for ages." Dean complained.

"I know. As far as I could find out the brothers had children but they encouraged the wife and their children to keep the maiden name who they married and who their children are, aren't listed because of this."

Dean cursed. They had been so close but had hit a dead end. Well at least they knew one thing for certain.

"Witches… we're going against a group of witches…"

Sam nodded confirming what he'd already begun to suspect. It really couldn't be anyone or anything else.

"Are they even strong enough to resurrect an entire Manor?" Dean questioned.

"Dean, if the other villagers were accurate at the time then they had an entire town to keep healthy. I don't think raising a Manor from its burnt foundations would have been a difficult task."

Dean couldn't quite believe their luck. There was really no way for a witch to be defeated. One either had to steal all of their sacred books on spells since they couldn't remember them all or they had to be shot the good old fashioned way. He hated witches for that reason alone. They would be forced to kill actual human beings even if they had sold themselves just for a bit of magic mumbo jumbo.

Sam could see how pissed Dean was. He wasn't exactly pleased about this turn of events either. But if witches were torturing people for their sacrifices then they needed to do something. They needed to put a stop to their practice.

"So… tonight then?" Sam asked.

Dean gave a weary nod.

"Tonight we see who exactly is leading this thing."

x-x-x-x-x

When Harry woke it wasn't what he expected. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in Grimmauld Place knowing that Teddy and Andromeda were planning to visit the next day. Nothing could have brought him so much joy. He always enjoyed seeing his godson smile up at him with the joy that he'd never been able to have. This… this however was definitely not Grimmauld Place.

White marble shone around him. It was so bright from the added torch light that Harry wondered if he could be blinded by this. A quick glance outside revealed that it was indeed night. But he felt as awake as if he'd been sleeping all night and it should have been morning. It was very strange and Harry couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't still dreaming.

Yet the feel of the cold marble beneath him seeping into his bones was definitely not a dream nor were the freakishly white dress robes he was wearing. Sitting up, he carefully got to his feet, still feeling lethargic from his sleep.

There was only the one window which didn't help him at all. He needed more of a view than dense forest to have any idea of where he was. Forest stared back at him with no sign of life anywhere in the vicinity. That was all he could see for miles. Harry couldn't even hear any birds chirping. It was like all life had been sucked out of the forest and left silent giants in their wake.

Turning around, he garnered a better look at the room he was being held in. He attempted to ignore the white marble slab in the middle of the room. It didn't leave him with the best of impressions. There were a few grooves in the wall but all they held were white burning candles. Nothing else was present within the room except for a single mirror by the only door. Curious, Harry stepped closer until his appearance stared back at him.

"I look like a sacrifice." Harry moaned.

The white robes were traditional in every sense of the word. Essentially he was wearing a dress with ridiculously long sleeves. A tassel of white brought the robe in at the waist but that wasn't what caught his attention. The stitching along the sleeves trim and the neckline was so intricate that Harry saw the design immediately. They were runes for a spell, a ritual to tie one person to another in a ceremony of Dark magic. Without more instructions Harry couldn't begin to imagine what ceremony that was meant to be and it worried him greatly.

Thankfully, his hair hadn't been touched in anyway. It was still as striking and ruffled as ever. The inky blackness of his mess of hair only stood out in contrast to the white robes. His emerald eyes glinted at him without his glasses and he realized that someone must have fixed his eyesight whilst he slept. Harry distinctly remembered going to sleep with his glasses by his side. His skin appeared a slight bit paler than what he remembered but that was hardly an issue at the moment.

The only other piece that startled him was the crown decorating his head. It was something meant for kings yet had a feminine design about it that threw him off completely. It was a contrast of so many things that he just didn't know where to begin. The crown was silver with emeralds inserted at particular sections giving it elegance. Yet the crown that decorated his head looked strangely familiar. The base design of it at least anyway. However he didn't know where he could have managed to see it as there weren't any type of crown within his vaults at Gringotts.

Harry sighed. This was ridiculous. He'd had many people attempt to kidnap him before what with his single status and the wealth at his fingertips but no one had ever succeeded to his degree before. Harry had to give them points for that. No one had ever managed to get him in this situation before. They'd tried to get him away from Grimmauld but hadn't managed it before. The fact that this psycho had also managed to change his clothing was something else entirely.

Harry shook himself. Now wasn't the time to be thinking of these things as he needed to get away before they returned. That was the first thing he always learnt. It was easiest to get away when they were out since nothing could stop him then.

The door was thankfully unlocked so he began heading down the marble stairs and into the first room that was beyond the marble slab he had awoken from. Harry's eyes widened at the sight before him.

"What have I gotten myself into now?"

x-x-x-x-x

Night had fallen swiftly for Sam and Dean. They weren't entirely ready for this trip up into Peverell Manor but it was all they had left to do before anyone became suspicious.

Going up against witches wasn't what they'd had in mind for their first job after opening Hell's Gate but it was what they'd been dealt with and what they had to work with. Besides they weren't just about to leave whoever was being tortured up to those sick bastards anymore. If they had to kill the witches to achieve this then that is what they would do.

"Ready Sam?" Dean asked as he gathered his favourite gun from the trunk of the Impala.

They were standing outside the Manor and so far weren't feeling any effects from the mind erasing. So they assumed they were good to enter for now. After this however they probably wouldn't get a second shot. Witches learnt too fast to allow that hole to remain in whatever they were doing.

"Yep." Sam replied.

Looking up at the looming Manor, they gave each other a nod before moving in. Whatever was waiting for them within would be dealt with even at the risk of their lives or their memory.

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><p><strong>This is just a chapter to capture interest. If you want me to continue this story soon then you'll have to vote for it in the poll on my profile page. The other stories will also have chapters posted to capture interest so if you want more of this vote.<strong>

**~MidnightEmber**


	2. Chapter 2

**~ Chapter Two ~**

As Harry entered the room the scenery changed suddenly. He'd gone from a room of stark white marble to one of shocking red. Red for an ex-Gryffindor wasn't such an odd sight. Over the seven years of schooling he'd become used to the numerous shades of red on every drapery, pillow and carpet space available in the dorm. This however was even far too much for him. Going down the stairs had been his only option at the time but now he was beginning to rethink everything. After all, when a Gryffindor became scared it generally was a good sign to run.

Something about the dining room (or at least that's what he assumed it was meant to be) screamed malevolence. The dining table and chairs were made from a pale white yet the table runner and the chair material were a very strange shade of red. Cutlery was done in delicate silver as were the plates and the chandelier above the table. It screamed of elegance and finery making him curious as to who exactly was behind all of this. The room gave Harry chills and he hadn't even met his host yet.

Of course the one piece on the table that stood out even from the numerous petals decorated along the edges was the fountain. Harry knew well that any type of fountain placed on a wizard or witches table meant a time for celebration. He'd taken to learning all he could about his father's family and pureblood tradition once he'd finished Hogwarts with Narcissa's help. She had instructed him in everything from etiquette to celebrations and even politics though that was mostly Lucius' area of expertise.

What type of celebration Harry currently found himself in he could only guess. However with the runes stitched into the robe he was wearing and the placement of everything within the room he would have to go with something entirely ancient. He'd learnt the modern rituals but Narcissa had informed him there were many more kept hidden within the eldest families. A ritual as ancient as this couldn't mean anything good for him.

Slowly edging towards the table, he glanced around the room. As far as he could see, he was on the first floor of a two storey mansion with no way out from his current location. The only other route to take was the one he'd used to enter and that certainly wasn't an option. It would be too easy to pin him in that room at last out here he had room to move around.

Looking up he noticed a balcony ran around the outside edge of the second story with numerous hallways leading away from it. If he could figure out how to get up there that would be his way out.

Nearing the fountain, Harry couldn't help but feel there was something unusual about it immediately. Small white balls floated along the surface in the unsurprisingly red liquid. Then and there Harry wanted nothing more than to run as fast and as far away as possible.

It was an eye, a human eye.

Withholding a scream, Harry stumbled into a chair. Everything macabre jumped out at him. The dining table and chairs were clearly made from human bone. Between the rose petals were various human organs curled delicately with much consideration. The red liquid within the fountain was blood most likely human as well.

He'd seen what he originally wanted to see. No one wanted to wake after being kidnapped and imagine they were in a horror fest with a mass murderer. They wanted it to be some simple person they could easily foil and escape. Maybe they would get arrested depending on how well they give up information on the kidnapping. Harry had desperately wanted all of those things. Now the illusion was fading fast and leaving him quite terrified.

What was he meant to do in a situation like this? Despite what many people had wanted, he had chosen not to become an Auror. The life of killing and capturing the remaining Death Eaters hadn't been as appealing after the war. Ron had become one if anything just to do something Harry refused. No, he'd chosen to become a researcher in the Department of Mysteries. Most of his life was spent reading books and observing artefacts. This was just too close for comfort. He'd taken the job to avoid these situations not walk right into them!

"Harry…"

His insides froze. The voice was weak but he'd heard someone. Someone had spoken his name. His kidnapper knew him well enough to use his first name. Quite honestly Harry didn't want to turn around and see who this was. Curiosity be damned, he'd had kidnappers before but this person was just psychotic. Normal attempted kidnappers just wanted to meet him have a photo taken with him. This was taking things too far.

Yet he knew that this confrontation was just waiting to happen. Eventually it would have occurred he'd just wished that maybe he could have had some time to accustom himself to the entire situation. At least then he would be able to handle anything thrown at him. With a shaky breath, Harry turned himself around and gaped at the sight before him.

"Draco?"

x-x-x-x-x

Dean wasn't entirely certain what to expect when he'd entered Peverell Manor. Sure there was the possibility of running into some scary witch that could potentially erase their memory and send them on their merry way but this… this was something else entirely.

The elegance of the Manor was breathtaking. It was clean. Not a speck of dust or a spider's web could be seen in any nook or cranny. The white marble gleamed beneath the soft candle light which was the only light available to them as the windows remained bordered up. Who hadn't heard of electricity in this age?

Yet what really got them were the portraits on the walls. They moved.

They moved. They spoke to each other and to them. They walked between portraits. They were everything but still. Neither Dean nor Sam could find an explanation for this so they ignored it or at least tried to. These particular portraits were rather pushy when it came to attempting to gain their attention. It was quite obvious that they desired something Dean and Sam could give them. However they ignored it and continued further into the house.

Luckily for them the hallway they were following hadn't branched out yet. It would have been rather difficult if they were constantly guessing where to turn next. These old mansions tended to have numerous hallways and different turns to get to different areas. They were basically giant mazes that humans lived in.

On second thought…

"Don't you think it's slightly suspicious that this hallway hasn't branched off yet?" Sam enquired.

Dean nodded but didn't reply. The hallways were somehow being affected by the witches. It wasn't an easy thing to come to terms with especially since they were walking down them as if they were nothing. This situation was steadily making him uncomfortable and he couldn't shake the feeling they were walking into something they would regret later. Yet that wasn't the most disconcerting thing Dean was dealing with. The portraits were staring again.

"Ok, what is with the creepy hoodoo portraits?!" he demanded pointing his gun in their direction.

The portrait closest to him, a beautiful girl in an eighteenth century style cream dress laughed merrily at him. Obviously they were some kind of joke to the portraits.

"Do you not know what we are, hunters?"

Sam and Dean shared a glance. She made it sound like the most obvious thing on Earth. To her it probably was but they had nothing to go on except for the scary ass witches likely waiting for them deeper in the Manor. Without prompting she continued.

"We are the portraits of the deceased members of the Peverell Family."

The other portraits smiled in agreement some reciting what Sam assumed was the family motto. Much to Dean's horror, Sam became curious. While Dean may have simply enjoyed killing the creatures Sam liked to know everything there was to know about them for future reference. However he had to admit the book they kept on all of their past encounters was rather useful.

"How are you moving like that?"

It was Sam's first question and the portraits had obviously been expecting it.

"When we die a bit of our magic is left behind in the world. The magic can either enter our portraits if we have them commissioned or they can create something small like a flower or a muggleborn. Mostly however they enter our portraits and animate them as we once were. We retain our knowledge and personality however we can't use or magic any longer."

In all honesty it was remarkably fascinating. Dean had never heard it in his life. But then his mind went back to that creepy little girl that killed her family and continued to do so through the family portrait. She'd only been about eight but still, not cool.

"You can't leave those frames can you?" he accused.

There wasn't anything wrong with checking however Dean felt rather silly when they all laughed at him.

"Of course we can't dear boy, not that a few haven't attempted to do so. Our magic is tied to the portrait. Should we try to leave out magic fizzles and dies out and our portraits become still." Another informed him.

At least that settled that belief. Sam was probably taking notes so he could add it to the book later so he didn't have to worry over remembering his embarrassing moment.

"However this isn't the time for idle chit chat. There is someone you need to meet."

The elder woman was clearly told to bring them to this person. She had an air of importance about her that led them to believe she didn't enjoy being kept waiting. However Dean and Sam cast each other an uncertain glance. Sure the portraits were nice enough but that didn't mean they wanted to help them or meet more of them. Yet if it got them closer to the target they weren't about to complain.

The "person" they apparently had to meet was another portrait. He looked to be in his late forties with greying hair and a cheery smile. This certainly hadn't been who they expected. Honestly they had expected the portraits to lead them directly into a trap and have to fight their way out of yet another hunt gone wrong. They should just have started to learn to expect the unexpected in their line of work.

"A pair of hunters in Peverell Manor, I never thought I'd see the day…" the man smiled.

Dean and Same felt at ease in his presence. That wasn't any easy thing to come by in their line of work. As it was the only people they trusted any would be Bobby, Ellen and Joe. Winchesters weren't renowned for their trust.

"My name is Ignotus Peverell and I need your help."

Sam quickly nudged his brother.

"What?"

"Ignotus Peverell was the youngest brother and one of the last to carry the Peverell name." he whispered.

Ignotius merely nodded.

"Indeed I was the last to carry the name but not as you may have suspected to carry the bloodline."

"What's the difference?" Dean enquired.

"He had children." Sam jumped in.

"My, my, he's a smart one." Ignotus encouraged. "Your brother is correct. I had a son who also had many children after him and my line continued under another name. My eldest brother, Antioch, was the same."

Dean frowned hadn't there been three brothers? He remembered Sam going on about three of them being the last Peverell's by name but the blood living on in the other descendants. Had he been mistaken? Just as he doubted himself Sam jumped in.

"But the second brother didn't?"

Ignotus' expression fell. They could tell there was a rather tragic story to go with that expression and hoped that he didn't begin to waffle on. Really, they didn't have time for any of that. In the beginning they'd just planned to kill the witches and go. This hadn't been a part of any plan but now they were working with it.

"No Cadmu's wife died before they could have children and he followed pining away after her and the love he could never have."

Dean was hesitant to look at Sam. During the first few months they'd begun hunting together Sam had been that way after Jess. He'd barely slept or ate and everything seemed to remind him of her. Thankfully he'd managed to get past that stage with some help buy others. However none of this explained what they were doing here.

"Why is this so important?" Dean asked.

He wasn't going to remain unless there was a rather good explanation to all of this.

"My many-times grandson is here." Ignotus explained. "He needs your help."

Dean grimaced. If this guy's grandson was the reason behind all the torturous screams and the witchcraft then they wouldn't be helping him at all. Instead they would be ending his life right before their eyes. Sam, light hearted that he was, had a different idea.

"What can we do to help?"

It was cautious but Dean almost wished he hadn't said it at all as Ignotus answered.

"Antioch's many-times grandson kidnapped my own from his him in England. I do not know the specifics but he's not here of his own free will and no one knows where he's been taken. Others can't simple stumble upon this place. You have to know what is inside and an approximate area to even get close. The pair of you was extremely lucky. Anyone else that comes near has their mind erased by the wards before they can even enter."

Sam was frowning more than likely attempting to understand this idea of wards. They had come across wards before however they had a physical form. The Devil's Trap had a precise location in which to place it so theoretically this memory ward also had a location even if it were in a place they couldn't see. Dean just didn't care much for it now that it wasn't a concern.

"We came here because of the witch nothing else." He started to explain. "We risked entering knowing that likely our minds would be erased by magic mumbo jumbo, even walked down the hallway of weird. Now you're asking us to risk our lives again to save a witch that more than likely we'll hunt anyway."

Ignotus frowned. Dean stood his ground. If the portrait didn't like what he'd said he would just have to manoeuvre around it. The portrait would need a really good argument to get him to help this witch child.

"The two within this manor aren't the usual witches you face every day." Ignotus explained.

This one sentence had their immediate attention.

"The ones you face have made deals with demons as you well know. Our family however, and others like us, never have made a deal with demons. The gifts we have been blessed with originated somewhere else which is why the magic remains in the next generation of children unlike that of the demon deals. No one knows how this happened or even why, but it is a genetic trait that can be dormant in one person and active in the next. I'm certain if we had some of your scientists working on it then we would know with certainty however our equivalent spends most of its time researching things less important."

"Wait, you're saying there is more than one type of witch?" Dean spluttered.

Ignotus nodded wisely. Sam's mind was in overdrive. How was that even possible? They'd never run into another type of witch during their hunts. It had only ever been demon deals. However he could understand why the other type wouldn't want to be recognized what with the Salem Witch Trials. That time wouldn't have been very safe for any of them.

"If there is more than one type why wouldn't we still take them out if given the chance?" Dean continued.

"My family's type of magic isn't taken from anything. We don't sacrifice children or use blood in any ritual. There are rituals we do but they involve celebrating life. Life is sacred to us and each child that comes into the wonderful world that we've separated from normal people is celebrated. They go to school and learn our craft. We have rules and laws governing us that wouldn't make sense to you but are treasured by us. My grandson wouldn't break them he's too much of a saviour to do so." Ignotus laughed.

"Antioch's grandson is another matter entirely. He is of both. He was born in our world and raised in the normal world like many of the children that come to us are. However there was something wrong with him and as he grew it only managed to get worse. He made a deal with a demon when he was little before he knew anything and yet because of his unique situation the rules that applied didn't with him. He twisted himself even more. Whatever history that is between them is deep and has led to this. Please don't take it out on Harry."

Sam and Dean traded looks. Honestly with everything that was happening how could they just ignore it? If Harry was innocent then they would save him. It was ridiculous to forego this person when they knew he was in trouble. Besides if they did save him they could get many answers from him that they didn't have.

"So his name is Harry?" Dean asked.

"Yes, his name is Harry, Harry James Potter."

x-x-x-x-x

Harry acted before any shock he was feeling could set in. He ran. Long strides took him forward. Determination drove him and yet there was this lingering fear in the back of his mind that couldn't be easily pushed aside. It felt like he was hurrying towards his death once again in the Forbidden Forest. Facing hundreds of Death Eaters and simply waiting… waiting for the end to come. Time was nearing and it wasn't looking good for him or Draco.

Stopping before Draco, Harry couldn't help but release a shaky breath. Horror crossed his face as the reality of his situation finally hit home. This kidnapper wasn't playing around. They knew exactly where to hit him and how. Using his friends in such a manner was a ploy to get him distraught before the eventual meeting.

"Draco…" he whispered.

Harry couldn't help but stare. His once rival had seen better days.

Draco was hanging from a candelabra attached to the dining room wall (unsurprisingly again a vicious shade of red). It skewered him directly through the stomach. The wound wasn't enough to kill him instantly. Instead he was left to linger in pain. His breathing was laboured and he moaned with every intake. Harry had never witnessed anything like this before even during the second war.

Ron had told him a few stories from his Auror work but it didn't even compare. Since the end of the war nothing like this had occurred. And if it was then it was being covered up rather well. That was unlikely though. Department of Mysteries personnel always knew what was happening within every section of the Ministry.

"I'll get you down Draco, you won't die here." Harry cried.

Really his words were more for his own benefit. He was certain they helped Draco just not as much as it did him. Harry was lost, he was confused and he was about to watch his best friend die. This certainly wasn't the best day of his life. How could he escape, return home and tell Narcissa that he'd been forced to watch Draco die? There was no way he was prepared for that to happen.

Looking around him Harry, noticed that the candelabra had numerous spikes around the edges like an arrow head. It made it easy for pushing things onto the spikes but near impossible to remove them again. If only he had his wand, Harry moaned, then he could easily get Draco down. Without it he was lost. There was nothing he could do especially since he didn't trust in his own abilities. Wandless magic wasn't always stable enough for delicate procedures.

"Merlin, what do I do?" he muttered.

Blood was beginning to ooze out of Draco's mouth signalling that the end was nearing. Harry managed to get a good look at the back of the brace which as luck would have it was a loose. He began working on it immediately. There was a chance he could get Draco down. That had to be better than where he was currently. If only his hands would stop shaking.

"Harry…" Draco spluttered through the blood.

"That's right Draco," Harry sobbed, "it's Harry. Don't worry we'll figure something out. I'll get you down."

His hands shook desperately as he attempted to get the candelabra unattached. The screws just wouldn't loosen no matter what he attempted and he was loath to leave Draco for even a second to have a further look around the room. He just couldn't bring himself to look at what was likely to face him next. It might not be death but it wasn't likely to be any good either way.

"Need to…"

Blood was dribbling down his mouth now. He coughed and Harry felt it splatter onto him and sobbed. This wasn't working! He needed something to work. Why couldn't he save his friend?

"Don't speak Draco, don't speak. Just save your energy please."

"Run…"

"I'm not leaving without you."

Harry raised his voice hoping to get it through to them both. He needed Draco to stop speaking for a second so he could think. He just needed time to think but there wasn't any time. Why wasn't there any time?

Draco kept speaking even though Harry had practically begged and screamed at him to stop. He wasn't making any sense but Harry could tell that he wanted Harry to leave him where he was probably sensing his death draw near. Harry however wasn't ready to let him go. If Draco died then he would be left alone there. He wouldn't have anyone to turn to and he wouldn't have anyone to reassure him. Tell him that it would be alright even if it wasn't.

Stumbling over words as Harry attempted to free him; Draco took his final breath and whispered a single word. Harry froze, his heart racing. It was the name of his kidnapper and Draco's killer. He was definitely in trouble.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed the chapter. This probably won't be updated as often as I'd like but it isn't abandonded.<strong>

**~MidnightEmber**


	3. Chapter 3

**~ Chapter Three ~**

Draco spluttered; the ability to breathe becoming more arduous as the time went on. He had to explain what had happened. He had to help Harry understand why this was happening even if he couldn't get the words out. Harry needed to understand more about this situation than just the single name he'd uttered. However each breath he took grew weaker and Harry had become frozen in fear.

The name spoken wasn't what Harry needed to hear. It sent shivers down his spine and brought up memories he'd hoped were long forgotten. Memories flashed behind his eyes, each one more bold and brilliant than the last. The war certainly hadn't been pleasant. Nevertheless he needed to pull himself together. Certainly he wouldn't be escaping if every new revelation caused him to fall back into memories. Besides he wasn't the only person stuck here.

"Draco, I need to move this piece so I can pull you down." Harry spoke, a tremor in his voice. "Can you stay awake for a little while longer?"

The tremor beneath his words didn't fool Draco. Harry knew he could hear how terrified he was for the both of them. He wouldn't deny it. However given their age and the amount of suffering they had gone through during that time, they were allowed to feel terrified.

Draco had aged well. There were a few lines on his face, more than likely from strain, but otherwise his blond hair and silver eyes remained as formidable as ever. Cold and piercing, no one stood a chance against them. Harry envied that. He'd learnt the hard way dying didn't always mean dead, just the same, years ending and beginning didn't mean one was aging. He still held the same youthful appearance as the second time he'd been hit with the cursed green spell.

Reaching up for the piece, Harry paused. Magic stirred in the air yet underlying the familiar tones was something dark and twisted. Harry couldn't pinpoint it but something about this wasn't right. Turning to Draco, Harry froze. Once steely eyes were dim and glossy, his past nemesis was dead. Disbelief twisted within him. He couldn't do this alone. He hadn't the strength currently to fight against this foe again. Arms dropping to his sides, Harry bit back a sob.

Hope fled. He was alone and there wasn't anything he could do about it. He may have been the Master of Death but that didn't mean he could return the dead to life. Draco would leave behind his wife and their son. No one would know what had happened to him. No one would know where to search for the body. The body of his school nemesis would forever remain here trapped within this manor's wards.

Just as he decided to turn from the scene, Harry felt a tug. A startled cry left his lips as he flew across the room. Magic raged in the air signalling his foe had returned. The familiar magic brushed up against him occasionally pulling and twisting his robes, ripping pieces to shreds. Wide eyes could only stare at the ceiling as he flew through the air. Harry smashed into the fountain knocking it and its contents onto the table. He felt the liquid seep in to his robes in patches yet didn't comprehend why it had happened completely. Shock poured through his mind wiping out any other thought.

Harry didn't feel the pieces of broken furniture bite into his skin. He didn't even acknowledge the tickling sound as his crown fell to the floor and rolled beneath the table. Dark hair clung to his face, streaked with blood and other substances he rather didn't want to think on. Not that it did any good, eventually when he bathed, he would see everything.

When he finally stopped he knew he was at the far end of the table. Everything on the once pristine table had been knocked about as Harry had sailed through. Blood soaked white robes clung to him turning his complexion sickly. Yet they only grew worse as the liquid spread across the table, slowly dripping down the edges and onto the floor. Eyeballs stared at him accusingly yet one silver grey eye similar to Draco's caught him off guard.

It could only belong to Lucius Malfoy.

Tears spilled. Harry couldn't quite believe after all this time no one had even considered this. Everyone had thought they were safe once the Second War had been finished and the Dark Lord defeated. When Death Eaters started to disappear, no one mourned. No one cared they had disappeared. The Death Eaters didn't turn up and no one was hurt as they "escaped". Harry knew better now. They were all dead.

Before he could even think of moving a pair of hands fell either side of his face. Red eyes peered into startling green.

"You're meant to be dead."

Voldemort laughed in his face. He had definitely never looked better. His appearance was rather youthful and looked like an older version of Tom Riddle. The only thing that remained from his time as Voldemort was the snake-like red eyes. Harry assumed this appearance was common after he'd begun tearing pieces of his soul the first few times. Yet it was rather startling to see. The Dark Lord had never looked better and Harry had never felt worse.

The Dark Lord leant in, his smile becoming possessive and shark-like.

"I believe you and I have quite an amount to catch up on, Harry Potter."

x-x-x-x-x

Dean and Sam ran. Listening to Peverell wasn't doing them any good. They'd heard the basics and that was all they truly needed. Harry was in trouble, so Harry would be the one they rescued whilst Voldemort would be the one they killed. It was really that simple. Yet when they arrived at the end of the hall, they realized they couldn't have been more wrong.

The scene they arrived upon made even them nauseous. In their line of work that certainly spoke quite an amount. Blood lathered the room from an overturned fountain. A body remained stuck to the wall, impaled and still. Human body parts were strewn across the room seemingly from at least ten differing people. Yet it wasn't this body that they were concerned about. It was the one on the table.

Through the gruesome scene there was a white stained body lying frozen in fear with another taller man standing over him. From the description they had received the hunters could tell the body lying on the table was Harry Potter, the one they were meant to be saving. The boy was petrified, pale, and desperate to escape. That left the other as the demon they were meant to target, Voldemort.

Sam and Dean cast a look at each other. The demon felt menacing, something which the other demons they'd faced hadn't quite managed to do. Certainly the demons they regularly dealt with weren't perfect but them they at least could handle. However they knew this one was different.

Voldemort was capable of much more and all because he was a wizard that had sullied his soul. Neither of the pair quite understood how he had managed that only that he had and to the wizards it was a crime punishable with a one way ticket to Hell to the end of time. This rescue would take skill and not just running in guns blazing. They wouldn't be able to defeat him without more knowledge and that required a rescue mission not a homicide. The killing of the demon would have to be done much later when they knew how to rid the world of a wizard-demon.

Grimacing at their predicament, Dean and Sam settled down for the right moment to act.

x-x-x-x-x

Harry stared into red eyes. Never before had he felt so helpless. This situation brought forth every single detail he'd gone through to kill the Dark Lord the first time around… well second if you included Halloween. With so very many questions and desperation to flee, Harry accepted his trapped position and asked,

"How are you here?"

The sharp smile did little to alleviate any concern he had over his future lifespan. Hands were placed on Harry's head further trapping him in a rather submissive position. The Dark Lord wouldn't let him move from this position. He seemed to find it rather amusing.

"After you torturously killed me one soul piece at a time I was left to rot in Hell-"

"It's where you belong." Harry snarled, reacting without thought.

Voldemort's nails broke skin. Harry's breath hitched but otherwise he remained silent. Blood seeped from the tiny half-moon cuts running like tears down the sides of his face. Harry offered him a slightly pained smirk. He wouldn't grant Voldemort the satisfaction of hearing him scream when the Dark Lord held all of the power within this room.

"Hell," Voldemort continued, "was rather an enjoyable place for someone like me, Harry, so perhaps I should be thanking you. I learnt quite a few new tricks from beings far older than I. However any gossip that came my way I listened to especially when it concerned travelling top side."

Worry flooded Harry. New tricks? Certainly that didn't mean anything good for anyone that crossed the Dark Lord's path. Harry didn't need reminding of what had happened to those Death Eaters who had betrayed him again and those, though loyal, that had been dismissed from their pleas. The Dark Lord would return. Should he travel to England, he would return far more powerful and dreadful than any other Lord.

"Then there where whispers a gate would be opening."

Harry's stomach fell. It was rather obvious as to where this was headed.

"Everyone would be released, we were told. You can bet I was one of the first ones there and the first one out as two idiotic hunters released us. However that was a few years ago now, after all I had to obtain as much information as possible before moving forward with my plan."

From where they were listening Dean and Sam flinched. They had come across numerous demons they'd let out of Hell. None however had been as desperate for revenge as this. Dean couldn't quite cope with the mention of Hell either, having been released from those doors only recently he still felt the pain flowing through him from numerous hooks. Not that it helped recently discovering the existence of angels and the possibility of Lucifer rising. Everything just seemed to be going downhill for them.

"Why did you do this?" Harry questioned returning attention to the situation at hand.

It took little imagination to realize what he was asking about.

"I couldn't just allow my follower's to desert me. They needed to be taught a lesson. So, as soon as I was out, as soon as I had located our glorious ancestor's Manor, I hunted them down. One by one I ensnared them and punished them for abandoning me and my ideals as they did. After all new followers would be much more eager to obey and I simply don't need the past to stand in my way."

The horror must have been written across Harry's face as Voldemort cooed down at him reassuringly.

"Oh no, Harry, I didn't bring you here so I could kill you off like them. You are after all my equal and the Master of Death."

Dean's gaze hardened at those words. How did one become the Master of Death? What did the title even mean? This topic hadn't been mentioned at all when Ignotus had spoken to them. This little unknown factor could lead them into quite a bit of trouble. Yet for answers they would need to get Harry out and for that they needed a distraction.

"Killing you," Voldemort continued, "wouldn't be worth the time. You would simply return here and I don't want to grant you a taste of what you could have with those angels. You and I, my dear Harry, are going to bond and together we'll rule the Wizarding World killing every single muggle in our path."

The hunters cringed knowing now what muggles were. They were muggles. If they were correct, most of the people on the planet were muggles. This psychopath was going to practically kill off the entire human race which would leave demons and other nasty creatures of the night freedom to do as they pleased. Lucifer's Seals would be unlocked without any resistance and then the end of the world truly would occur. This certainly wouldn't do at all.

Harry cringed for another matter entirely. Though the Dark Lord had retained quite a number of his appealing physical traits, Harry would never be able to see past his tendencies to kill everything the Dark Lord disliked. It wouldn't get them anywhere and Harry wasn't about to sit back and allow the Dark Lord to do as he pleased.

"You are correct about one thing." Harry whispered.

His magic was gathering. It hadn't been able to because the Dark Lord had kept such a tight leash on the wards surrounding the property but now he was distracted by Harry and his future plans to dominate the world. Harry could feel his magic simmering beneath his skin yet using it before the time was right wouldn't help at all. He needed to save it as long as possible. Until the right moment…

"What is that, Harry dear?" the Dark Lord crooned.

Blazing green eyes met startled red.

"I am the Master of Death and your equal but I wouldn't bind myself to you if you were the last being in creation."

A knife flew into Harry's hand. Using the sudden startled expression to his advantage Harry slammed the knife into the side of Voldemort's face. The screaming was horrible. The blood pouring from the wound managed to splash across Harry's face but he cared little. He jumped up, racing across the table to the other side of the room. His feet splashed through blood yet miraculously didn't trip.

Not a glance was cast at Draco knowing it would be useless. He would inform people where to look once he was out. Instead he dragged a chair, feet scrapping loudly across the tiled floor, to the edge. Flat against the wall, Harry stood on the chair and jumped to reach the railing. He scrambled up and over the edge to the second storey.

Yet even this one instance of good fortune wouldn't grant him a break. As soon as he'd caught his breath Harry was running again. There was only one hallway leading from the balcony and he wasn't about to let the Dark Lord reach it before him.

As soon as he'd rounded the first corner Harry collided with a wall. No it wasn't a wall but at his height the person felt like a wall. He struggled madly hoping desperately he would be able to attack at least one weak spot. Arms wrapped around his waist trapping his arms in a tight embrace.

"It's alright."

Harry ceased fighting. This person wasn't Voldemort. Two men stood before him, the tallest of the pair had his arms wrapped around him. They were human. Harry could tell that in an instant by the way they carried guns. Of course men carrying guns could only mean they were also hunters but at that point in time Harry couldn't care.

A snarl caught their attention. The Dark Lord had ceased his emotional spat and had discovered he was missing.

"Come on, we have to go." The shortest of the pair spoke.

The pair pulled him through corridors until they reached a stretch of corridor that ran straight. Harry could feel their confidence at escaping. It gave him hope that they would escape this manor in one piece. Yet as they reached the door Harry could feel the Dark Lord gaining. Passing through Harry turned only slightly to wave a hand, forcing his magic to slam the doors on Voldemort's face.

A screech rang out through the area which only had them moving away faster.

Three steps down from the manor there was a car waiting. Harry was ushered into the backseat before the two jumped in and started the engine. They sped away towards a small town below. The town was silent which gave Harry comfort. People wouldn't have to see him looking like some bride from a horror movie.

Glancing down, Harry knew he was covered in blood though it had dried. He could also feel other pieces he didn't want to even acknowledge. So much had happened over the past few hours he couldn't feel anything but overwhelmed.

The car stopped but only the taller man left the car. He returned moments later with two bags, quickly storing them in the boot of the car and stepping back in. The motel entered their review mirror moments later. The town doing the same a few minutes after that.

Harry understood they wanted to get as far away from Peverell Manor as possible. Yet Harry was still in the car. He desperately wanted to ask them what they planned to do with him, given what he was. Would they lock him away or send him to a mental institute? Certainly they wouldn't be returning him to his home. There was no way he would be able to get home without a passport and there were few if any magical areas in America.

"Who are you?" Harry instead questioned quietly.

The tallest of the pair turned to look at him, cringing at his appearance. Harry didn't blame him.

"I'm Sam and this is my brother, Dean. You're Harry, right?"

"I am."

Harry didn't feel the need to say anything else. He'd seen the portraits on the way out. Each of them had cast him such sorrowing looks he couldn't help but realize these hunters knew who he was. This pair knew exactly who he was and yet even as hunters they hadn't killed him. They had chosen to save him.

Questions began forming in his mind. Harry bit his lip. Could he ask them? Would he be permitted to ask them? His choice was taken away from him.

"What's on your mind?" Dean asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

"Why did you save me?" Harry blurted out.

That wasn't exactly what he'd wanted to ask first. However it had been on his mind for the majority of their escape.

Shock appeared on both faces. "What do you mean?"

Harry swallowed. This certainly wasn't what he'd wanted to do. However they seemed determined to show him they wouldn't be doing him any harm. So he decided to speak up.

"You know what I am. You know that I'm a wizard and the Master of Death. So, given that, why did you choose to save me?"

Dean and Sam seemed to silently fight each other using only their eyes before Dean sighed obviously losing their battle.

"One of your relatives spoke to us and convinced us to give you a chance. So we saved you."

Harry could sense there was something else hidden in there that Dean had wanted to sat but didn't. Instead Sam appeared to take the lead and turned to face him.

"Yet there are still blanks in our information of you. We… I was hoping you would be able to fill them in for us?" Sam questioned.

He looked so hopeful Harry could only nod his head. The information they had earned by saving him. If they wanted their payment through information Harry wasn't about to let them ask otherwise. He would grant them all the information they desired. First however, he needed to know…

"Where are we going?"

"To a friend's house, they'll help." Dean spoke rather briskly.

Harry accepted this as well. While they had rescued him they weren't willing to trust him with every single detail of their lives. They were smart at least in that area. Personal information, if given to the wrong person, could be deadly. Harry frowned picking at his sleeve.

"When will we be arriving?" He questioned glancing up at them for the first time.

"Two days, why?"

Harry could tell they were both confused by his question. He felt a small smile cross his face as he answered.

"I think I'm ruining your backseat."

There was but a moment of silence before…

"Son of a bitch!"

* * *

><p><strong>I can't believe I killed Draco off... I just... I'll be in a corner. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.<strong>

**~MidnightEmber**


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